“He sat down on an old empty nail-keg near the improvised cot and looked at the child; while Laughing Anne, moving to and fro, preparing the hot drink, giving it to the boy in spoonfuls, or stopping to gaze motionless at the flushed face, whispered disjointed bits of information.  She had succeeded in making friends with that French devil.  Davy would understand that she knew how to make herself pleasant to a man.

“And Davidson nodded without looking at her.

“The big beast had got to be quite confidential with her.  She held his cards for him when they were having a game.  Bamtz!  Oh!  Bamtz in his funk was only too glad to see the Frenchman humoured.  And the Frenchman had come to believe that she was a woman who didn’t care what she did.  That’s how it came about they got to talk before her openly.  For a long time she could not make out what game they were up to.  The new arrivals, not expecting to find a woman with Bamtz, had been very startled and annoyed at first, she explained.

“She busied herself in attending to the boy; and nobody looking into that room would have seen anything suspicious in those two people exchanging murmurs by the sick-bedside.

“‘But now they think I am a better man than Bamtz ever was,’ she said with a faint laugh.

“The child moaned.  She went down on her knees, and, bending low, contemplated him mournfully.  Then raising her head, she asked Davidson whether he thought the child would get better.  Davidson was sure of it.  She murmured sadly:  ’Poor kid.  There’s nothing in life for such as he.  Not a dog’s chance.  But I couldn’t let him go, Davy!  I couldn’t.’

“Davidson felt a profound pity for the child.  She laid her hand on his knee and whispered an earnest warning against the Frenchman.  Davy must never let him come to close quarters.  Naturally Davidson wanted to know the reason, for a man without hands did not strike him as very formidable under any circumstances.

“‘Mind you don’t let him—­that’s all,’ she insisted anxiously, hesitated, and then confessed that the Frenchman had got her away from the others that afternoon and had ordered her to tie a seven-pound iron weight (out of the set of weights Bamtz used in business) to his right stump.  She had to do it for him.  She had been afraid of his savage temper.  Bamtz was such a craven, and neither of the other men would have cared what happened to her.  The Frenchman, however, with many awful threats had warned her not to let the others know what she had done for him.  Afterwards he had been trying to cajole her.  He had promised her that if she stood by him faithfully in this business he would take her with him to Haiphong or some other place.  A poor cripple needed somebody to take care of him—­always.

“Davidson asked her again if they really meant mischief.  It was, he told me, the hardest thing to believe he had run up against, as yet, in his life.  Anne nodded.  The Frenchman’s heart was set on this robbery.  Davy might expect them, about midnight, creeping on board his ship, to steal anyhow—­to murder, perhaps.  Her voice sounded weary, and her eyes remained fastened on her child.